
Gass- \. 

Book ^"Ea 



\ 



A RACE FOR A DINNER, 
A FARCS, 



IN ONE ACT 



BY J. THOMAS G. RODWELL, ESQ, 



PRINTED FROM THE ACTING COPY, 

wiVh remarks biographical and critical— description ov thk 

f ostlme -cast of tlis charactehs - entrancfs and hxits— 

relative positions of the pehfokmers on the stage — 

and the whole of the stage business. 

As now performed at the 

NEW YORK THEATRE, BOWERY; 

AND THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN. 



NEJF YORK: 

Sold by WILL1AVI WHALE, 55 i-2 Bowery; and 

ELTON & PERK.iNS, 17 Divmoa street. 

1829. 






REMARKS, 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

It is exceedingly barbarous to make sport of an empty sto- 
mach, seeing — 

" That hunger broke stone walls— that dogs must eat — 
That meat was made for mouths." 
Yet it is no uncommon thing to behold an audience flush from 
the delicacies of the table, bursting their well fed sides with 
laughter at a poor devil, who is made to endure all the tortures 
of Tantalus, and who volunteers the horrors of starvation, not 
for his own amusement but theirs. Now, for the life and soul of 
us, are we puzzled to find out what merriment can be extracted 
from ribs condemned to those masticatory privations to which 
the flesh, or rather the bone and skin of authors, are heir to. 
We could never discover any particular drollery in — 

" Hungry guts and empty purse ;" 
And that poet must be more^ lucky than the rest of his frater, 
nity -and in the daily receipt of double puts and pay, who 
exhibits, as a figure of fun, any man, gentle or simple, whom 
dire necessity compels lo 'un a race for a dinner 

Mr. Sponge has engaged the particular attention of dramatic 
writers— his movements are reported with an accuracy that may 
emulate the court circular Whether this notorious distinctioa 
has turned to his advantage or not, we (as Lord Grizzle observes) 
cannot positively tell ; but, as far as we can guess, we do know 
that Mr Sponge has deemed it expedient to give his appetite and 
wits the benefit of coimtry air; not for the purpose of sharpening 
either, but that they might receive the consideration alluded to 
by Hamlet— 

" And therefore, as a stranger, give 'em welcome." 

This farce is taken from that amusing little French piece* 
"Le Gastronome,^'' and exhibits Mr Sponge in a new light; ior" 
ere he can dine himself, he is absolutely obliged to cram a dinner 
down the throats of the first two gentlemen that shall fall in his 



REMARKS. 



way This part of the story is very whimsically managed ; the 
assumption of Mr, Dalton's name the unexpected difficulty of 
meeting with two people that can be compelled to swallow soups, 
a fowl, a beefsteak, a few tarts, a dessert, and a bottle of good 
wine the apropos arrival oi the real Mr. Dalton and his friend — 
the mutual reconnoitring; of the parties -Mr Sponge's pressing 
invitation to the two gentlemen top.irtake of their own dinner — 
the voracity of his appetite, tantalized by alternate interruptions 
of apology nd threat— his pathetic apostrophe to the 'Mast of 
the bperste:;k" his longing look at the departing merrythought ; 
though rather too highly colored, are extrav igantlv ludicrous. 
Spotige is a ver>ion of Jeremy Diddler, as Jeremy is of a dozen 
dr imatic gentlemen of th ■ p(ivt\ who have gone before him. 
Mr. L»oric, theamateui builder, and Mr Measuieton, his dandy 
architect, h ive nothing particular to recommend them— they 
are person^ of great pretention, and bad ta-te, the frequent 
repetition of -'/-ither in I'tw,^'' which the latter indulges in, adds 
not to the humoi of his cnaracter. 

It i« curious to observe how a poor devil, like Mr, Sponge, 
who, in real life, woold be elbowed out ol society, becomes not 
only tole^'able, but even agreeable, on the «tage; where a thread- 
bare coat is a -igual for niiith, and a hungry s-oraach convulses 
us with laughter. It i because i)is necessities are no tax upon 
ou'- generosity— that they ask neither our contributiou nor pity. 
Ve fan therefore atford to laugh, wh» n nothing moie is de- 
manded—aw some pious 'christians give their blessing, who will 
give nothing else "> e are too apt to derive a mischievoMS plea- 
sure from the vexatious disasters of others, jhe unexpected 
sally oi a bull info a china shop is an excellent good joke — 
3)c.an Swift once, behoiding a bricklayer tumble tiirough the 
roof of a house that he was repairing, dryly remarked — that he 



liked to see a man go through his work cleverly 



D G. 



/ 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

Exit? and Entiunces — K. means Right; L. Left; D. F Door 
in Fl t; H. D. Right Door; L D Left Door; S. E- Second 
Entranre; U E. Upper Entrance. ; M. U. Middle Door. 

Rel.iivk Positio\s.~H. menus Ri^ht; L. Left; C. Centre; 
R. C. Right of Centre ; L. C. Left of :enire. 

h. [U; (• LC. L. 

*** The reader is — pposed to be on the stage, facing the 
audience. 



COSTUME. 

Sponge. Dark green shabby surtout; buff 
pantaloons ; black gaiters and shoes ; an old hat. 

Doric. Light blue old gentleman's suit. 

Measureton. Blue coat, white waistcoat, 

and trousers. 

Feedwell. Brown coat and breeches; red 
waistcoat ; grey stockings. 

Frank. Blue coat, waistcoat, and trousers. 

Dalton. Drab surtout; white waistcoat; 
drab pantaloons; boots. 

LovELL. Blue surtout ; white trousers. 

Waiter. Blue coat; buff waistcoat ; blue 
trousers. 

Gammok. Blue coat ; red waistcoat ; buff 
breeches; boots. 

A* 



CAST OF THE CHARACTERS. 



N. F.MarcM 1,1829. 

Sponge . _ - - Mr Barret. 

Doric \ ^ retired merchant, excessively fond / pjgijgr 
* } of bu idiag. j ' 

Measureton, (an arcbitfct.) 

F*-edwpll, (an innkeeper ) 

Dalton, (a rich merchant ) 

Lovell, (friend to I'alton) 

Frank, (servant to Dalton.) 

Waiters, 

6amuion, (a pretended bailiff.) 



Read. 
Hamilton; 
Lindsley. 
Sarzedas. 
Schinotti. 
Messrs. Jones & Beckwell. 
Barry, 



fiUf^H) 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 



ACT I.— SCENE I. 

A romantic view. — On the l. side of the stage, a 
newly built mansion ; on the r., a tavern and 
tea gardens, with a hoard over the door, on which 
is written '^ Robert Feedwell, Dealer in Fo- 
reign Wines and Spirits. — N. B. Dinners 
dressed on the shortest notice." In the centre 
of the stage an arbor. On the rising of the cur- 
tainy Feedwell and Waiters enter from the 
housCj, R. s. E. 

Fee. Take care, there, fake care ! Mind you 
don't break the dishes, or spill the wine; this is 
the most particular dinner 1 ever had to provide 
in all my life. 

Wai. We shall be careful, sir. 

[Exeunt into tavern, r. s. e. 
Fee. This is the long-look'd-for day on which 
my former master, and now my near neighbor, 
Mr. Doric, gives his daughter in marriage to Mr. 
Measureton. the architect ; and purely as it would 
seem to me, because he has been seized himself 
with a mania for building. That house, which 
he seems almost to adore, is the first fruits of his 
sublime imagination. A queer concern, certain- 
ly ; but, however, he's a worthy man, and so his 
fcribles are excusable. However, it's a pity he 



b A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

had not been seized with a penchant forinnkeep 
ing — 1 should have made him a broth of a son- 
in-law ; but here he comes. 
Enter Mr. Doric, as if regarding his mansion, l. 
s. E ., with delight. 

Dor. (l) Well, Robert, how proceeds the din- 
ner? 

Fee. (r) Charmingly, charmingly, your honor. 

Dor. You \ we taken care that the wines are 
of the finest q lity ; my son-in law, Robert, is a 
man of extrac ^ary taste. 

Fee. He has given conyincing proofs of it, 
your honor. 

Dor. How, Robert? 

Fee. By the great love he shows for your 
daughter and my larder. 

Dor. But, more than all, by his talent for 
building — there's a specimen ! the prettiest thing 
in the county — f»oor fellow ! I thought he never 
would have finished it; but, however, he says 
it's the way with the profession ! 
Enter Measureton, from the mansion, l. s. e. 

Mea. (l) My dear father in- law, the company 
are waiting, your presence is expected. 

Dor. (c) I'm coming — but, apropos, do you 
know the news ? Mr. Daltoa has bought the 
manor house upon the hill. 

Fee. (r) What! Mr. Dalton, the rich merchant, 
who never dines with less than forty or fifty co- 
vers ! 

Mea. What ! the rich merchant, who is always 
building ? I wish I were his architect. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER; 9 

Fee. And I had the serving of his table. 

Dor. They say he is a good and worthy man. 

Mea. But eccentric in the extreme. 

Dor. Well, well, if he employ his life in gain- 
ing an honest fortune, and that fortune in making 
others hap|)y, that man must be nice indeed who 
cannot pardon a few harmless eccentricities- 

Mea. Very true, fa)her-in-law ; but, as I was 
saying, the guests will arrive, and — 

Dor. And if they should arrive ten minutes 
too soon, you can show them over the house; 
let them see the grand saloon, and my new de- 
signs. I'll be bound we can amuse them- But 
come, neighbor, I will just pop into the kitchen, 
take a glance at the eatables, and then for the 
gut-sts. 

Fee, This way, your honor. 

[Exeunt into tavern, r. s. e. 
Enter Sponge, cautiously from the hack of the 
stage, L. u. E. 

Sponge. No dinner yet ! and nearly ten miles 
from New York. Alas ! tired of admiring, with an 
empty stomach, its museums, parks, streets, and 
cookshop windows, 1 have escaped from its 
smoke, which only seemed to increase my ap[)e- 
tite, and have come to try my tbrtune in the su- 
burbs. But the hour of dinner approaches, and 
not one invitation yet ! (music htard without in 
the mansion, l. s. e.) What! fiddling, dancing, 
and singing! Then the workmen em|)loyed in 
working the great road have not deceived me ; 
it is a wedding — a wedding, and 1 not in it ! 



10 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

They always have good dinners at weddings: 
'tis there f pointing to the mansion) that Hymen 
lights his mighty torch, and there (sinelling, and 
pointing to the tavern) the cook lights his mighty 
torch, (looking in at the tavern window) If there 
an't the most beautiful ribs of beef I ever beheld. 
Oh ! oh ! that I had a rib of it, were it only a 
short rib, but mine are all spare (s})ayj ribs. Be- 
fore we decide on the method of attack, let us 
just look into \}\e state of affairs, friend Sponge. 
(feeling his pockets) Nothing there—nothing 
there— nothing there — (feeling his stomach) no- 
thing there; and, in fact, nothing every where; 
and, unfortunately, this is a country in which no- 
thing is to be had for nothing. But who comes 
here — white gloves and a nosegay — oh, some 
one concerned in the wedding. 

Enter Doric, from the tavern^ r. s. e. 
What a fine figure to work upon; yes, yes, we'll 
dine together. 

Dor, There, there, not yet ready — I'm sure the 
guests must be quite impatient, (looking at the 
house) It's astonishing what an effect my build- 
ing produces at this distance ; never was such a 
piece of architecture in this world ! How beau- 
tiful the coach gates, and the two posts : then the 
coach houses, the pum{), the laundry, and the lard- 
er, all in the forecourt. It's really a little palace. 

Sponge, (aside) Oh, you're there, are you — 
this is the pro{)rietor- 

Dor. (r) Provided that coaches don't lose their 
wheels in going in, that gate is delightfully nar- 



A RACE FOR A DINNER « 11 

row. I shall never leave off admiring it. Eh ! 

what's that fellow about ? 

[Sponge looks attentively at the house^ and appears 

every now and then to write with a pencil in a 

small pocket book. 

Sponge, (l) Suppose we say 23 feet — 23 — that 
will bring us there ; we put the dining room into 
the kitchen 

Dor, What! 

Sponge. The laundry into the pantry, and the 
nursery into the cellar. 

Dor, Why, he's turning ray house out of Avin- 
dow ! 

Sponge. We put that back some ten feet, and 
we shall have a straight line. 
[Doric interrupting him, Spons:e makes signs with 

his hand for him not to approach^ and continues 

writing in his hook. 

Dor. Sir, sir, might I take the liberty of inqui- 
ring what you're about with that house ? 

Sponge. A thousand pardons, sir; I had not the 
pleasure of seeing you before. I am the survey- 
or general of the county, employed at present in 
conducting the works of the new road. 

Dor. (r) And pray what has the new road to 
do with that house ? 

Sponge, (l) Ah ! I see you're not acquainted 
with the new plan. It is now determined to con- 
tinue the new road in a line with the Thames, 
up to that point; we then cut horizontally, you 
see, in that direction, (^pointing through the house. 

Dor. The devil! why that wiU take away one 
side of my house ! 



12 A RA.CE FOR A DINNER. 

Sponge. Without doubt, and the work must be 
begun tomorrow. 

Dor. And you think I shall suffer you to knock 
dow n my house so easily, do you ? 

Spotis^e. What, sir! does that house belong to 
you ? I'm quite distressed. However, it's not 
the intention ol' parliament to injure any private 
person, and there is certainly one comfort — we 
only want about 23 feet for which you will be 
paid ; nd all the remainder of the Iiouse is your 
own, which you will then find in the middle of 
of the great road ; the dust may be rather incon- 
venient at first, perhaps, but I have no doubt you 
will consider it an improvement on the whole. 

Dor. An imjirovement ! nonsense! why, you'll 
leave my house without either doors or windows. 

Sponge. By which you will save the taxes. 

Dor. What ! cut away that beautiful front, that 
triumi'hof the art — what an event! and in such 
a time — on my daughter's wedding day I 

Sponge, f aside J How the father of the bride! 
happy rencontre! (aloud) I'm really grieved that 
my duly com})els me to intrude ujuin you, aud^ 
on a vvj^dding day too, perhaps at the very mo- 
ment you were going to sit down to dinner. 

Dor. It's distressing; but tell me Mr. Survey- 
or General, are there no means by which it might 
be avoided ? 

Sponge, (musing) H«^m ! it's a very delicate 
affair 1 <lon't say, however, but that, with some 
exertion, and the uncommon appetite — \ meaa 
interest, with which you have ins|)ired me — 

Mca. (without l a e.) Mr. Doric! Mr. Doric! 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 13 

Dor, (r) I'm called; they wait for me; and 
really it's the most distressing thing in the world 
to keep people waiting for their dinners, when, 
perhaps, their appetites are as keen as the carv- 
ing knife. 

Sponge, (l) I know mine is. C aside J My dear 
sir, make no apology — 1 know the horror of ha- 
ving to wait for a dinner, as well as any man 
who ever swallowed one. 

Dor. I dare say you do. But, my dear sir, 
yon have the appearance of a gentleman, (asidc^ 
and looking at his dress) A little out at elbows, 
or so — but never mind that — and, if you would 
be so condescending — 

Sponge, (aside) Now he's coming to it. 

Dor. As to take a bit of dinner with us, in a 
friendly way, and without ceremony — 

Sponge, (aside) Now I have it. You're too 
obliging, and 1 must confess to you that, not ha- 
ving the honor of your acquaintance — 

Dor. Pshaw ! among honest men, little ac- 
quaintance is necessary, and a bottle is the best 
thing in the world to make men forget they are 
strangers. 

Sponge. Really, you overpower me. I — I — I 
can't refuse ! 

Dor. Now, that's friendly. You shall sit by 
ray side — w^e have some excellent wine, with 
hams, turkeySj sausages, &c.; it will be hard in- 
deed if there's not something you can eat. 

Sponge. It must be damned hard, indeed, if I 
can't eat it, but--' 

B 



14 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

Dor. Now no huts. I know what you're go- 
ing to say : you wish to step home to change 
your coat, but there's only my own family pre- 
sent, and this will do very well. 

Sponge (aside) Change my coat : that would 
be rather difficult, without my uucle's consent; 
no, no, my dear sir, you wrong me. 1 assure 
you that, whatever side I happened to take, I 
never changed or turned my coat in my life. 

Dor. (aside) Well, it looks as if it had been 
turned and scoured too, pretty often. 

Sponge. You see, I'm a strange fellow, aud, if 
you notice, my linen, coat, waistcoat, trousers, 
&c., are all of a piece; there seems to be a sort 
of an alliance between them, which puts me la 
mind of — of — of — of the holy alliance. 

[Pointing to a hole. 

Dor. Ha, ha, ha ! Excuse me, but that's a ve- 
ry good joke ; by the by, I'll tell you a good joke 
or two. 

Sponge, (aside) Damn his jokes ! I want his 
dinner. But pray, my dear sif, if you do joke, 
don't crack any more at the expense of my ha- 
bi ments. 

Dor. I certainly will not, for reallj' they look 
as if they could very ill aflford it. 

Sponge. Ha, ha, ha! This smoothness, you 
see. is all the efifect of the care my valet takes 
in rubbing out the dirt. 

Dor. I don't doubt it, they look as if they'd 
had some hard rubs; but, no more of this, let's 
in J besides, my son inlaw is an architect, and 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 15 

he'll be delighted to have the surveyor general 
at table, whom, indeed. I have heard him say, he 
is perfectly acquainted with. 

Sponge (aside) The devil he is! 

Dor. No doubt, you are surprised at thus fall- 
ing in with an old friend. 

Sponge, (aside J If 1 find him a friend, I shall 
be surprised indeed. 

Dor. And, fortunately, here he comes. 

[Crosses l. 
Enter MEAsuREroN,/rom house, l. s. e. 

Dor. (c) Come, come, son-in law, we shall 
have a host of friends. Here's the surveyor ge- 
neral will do us the honor of silling at our table, 

Mea. (c) Nonsense, father-in law; he only 
sent me an apology an hour ago, to say he could 
mot come. 

Dor. Well, well, judge for yourself — there 
he is. 

Mea. How, Mr. Wideacre ! No, no, that's not 
him ; you're deceived, father in-law. 

Sponge, (r) Here's gratitude! What, don't 
you remember me ? 

Mea. No ! I never saw you in my life before. 

Dor. You're mistaken, son in-law; it's the 
gentleman who has the superintendence of the 
new road. 

Mea. No, you're mistaken, fatherin-law. I 
know Mr. Granite, who has the superintendence 
lof the new road, as well as I know you. 

Sponge, (aside) Damn the fellow ! he knows 
levery body ! 



lb A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

Dor. You're really wrong, son-in-law ; for Vm 
certain that Mr. Granite never said any thing to 
you of the last i)lan adopted for the new road, by 
which 1 shall lose at least half of my mansion. 

Mca. Depend on my information, father-in- 
law; the new road runs half a mile the other 
way. 

Sponge, (aside) I wish I could run half a mile 
the other way. Curse his information! he'll 
spoil every thing. 

Dor. What the deuce is it youVe been telling 
me ? \to Sponne. 

Sponge. Wait for one moment, and I shall be 
able to explain every thing to your satisfaction. 
What the devil shall I say ? [aside, 

Mea. Don't listen to him, fatherin-law; you're 
deceived: that fellow is an impostor. 

Sponge. Seriously, you are deceived, but I am 
DO impostor. What, Mr. Measureton, have you 
not the least recollection of me? i 

Mea. Not the least in the world ? 

Sponge, (aside) Considering we never saw 
each other before, that don't astonish me. To 
say the truth, I have an affair of importance to 
communicate to you, (crosses to Measureton) and 
wirhed to find out some new, sharp, clever way 
of introducing myself to you, and 1 thought the 
manner 1 adopted quite original ; wasn't it ? ha, 
ha, ha ! (aside) He won't laugh. 

Mea. 1 never heard of any thing like it, cer- 
tainly ; but, my dear sir, you need not have giv- 
en yourself so much trouble. Pray, may I know 
to whom I have the honor of speaking ? 



A RACE FOR A DINNER* If 

Sponge, (to M.J I wish to be alone with you far 
a moment; I'veam-'St imnonant matter to men- 
tion. 

Mea. (crosses to Dor. J Falher-in-law, you will 
excuse us for a m(»mf>nt ? 

Dor. Cerlainly. (crosses to l) IMiis fellow with 
his 23 feet, has put me quite in a flurry. How- 
ever, with all his new roads, he shan't find his 
way to my dinner table, thou^b. 

[Exit to mansion, l. s. e. 

Spons^e. Hang his dinner (able ! (aside J How- 
ever, there's no time to be lost. Sir, sir, you 
are Mr. Measu.eton, an architect of distinguish- 
ed talent to whom my worthy friend, Mr. Doric, 
has at last obtained for me the gratification of 
an introduction Oh, mny our fortune be ce- 
mented as firmly and continue as lasting and as 
pure, as the edifices of your immortal construc- 
tion, (aside J Bravo ! I'll stick to him like bricks 
and mortar. 

Mea. (l) Sir, I really scarcely know how to 
eredit those raptures. 

Sponge, (r) How strange you don't know me; 
but i know you, there'b the difference : you're 
established, you're a husband, you've married a 
beautiful and charming woman — 

Mea. Not so verjc beautiful — merely decent, 
to say the best of her. 

Sponge. But then I look to character. 

Mea. And what of her character ? 

Spons:e. Go, go, you're too modest— at least, 
she's rich. 

B^ 



18 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

Mea. AVhy, pretty so so, for the matter of that. 

Sponge. Then she is charming indeed ! {aside) 
You have prepared every thing to celebrate the 
wedding ? The invitations, the bridecakes, the 
bridesmaids, fiddles, flutes, horns. 

Mea. Horns! 

Sponge. Yes, yes — herns, you know, French 
horns — you understand me. f mutates blowng a 
horn) .And> in fact, you fancy you have thought 
of every thing — well, it's thus we decieve our- 
selves — there is one thing yuu have forgotten. 

Mea Not that 1 rem< mber. 

Sponge. 1 dare say not — no, you don't recol- 
lect that which you have forgotten. Where is 
the occasional ode — where is the song of love, 
in which the soul is to pour forth its heaven lelt 
raptures in soft poetic strains ? 

[Looking at a rent in his dress, 

Mea. Right. 1 have no occasional verses yet, 
though I have been poring over the Little War- 
bier full two hours, in hopes of finding some. 

Sponge. A wedding without a soug! thrit will 
never do; and think what a picture, when, after 
dinner, a good hearty dinner, as we sit at the 
dessert, you rise—silence prevails, " hush, hush," 
is heard from every quarter, and the guests re- 
peat to each other, in a whisper, "the bride- 
groom is going to sing ;'' then succeds a more im- 
pressive silence, and you modestly pull out of 
your right hand breeches pocket an amatory po- 
em, written on gilt edged vellum paper, filled 
with grace, energy, and tenderness — 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. J9 

Mea. But where am I to find such a poem ? 

Sponge, There is the occasion of my visit— 
I have thou«4ht seriously of your embarassment, 
and, without lettins; you know a word about it, 
I have written the said verses, which 1 now 
brino: to you. 

Mea. How ! you have taken the trouble, and 
wilhout t ven knowing me? 

Sponge. Oh, I'm much more your friend than 
you think me; but I reckoned on coming wilh- 
out ceremony, and announcing myself, perhaps, 
just at (he moment dinner was on the table. Ah, 
it is in those moments that a man finds out his 
real friends. 

Mea. I must confess to you I never met with 
such attention in my life. 

Sponge. Don't be astonished — it's a recreation 
— it's meat and drink, to me. I'm delighted with 
the wedding ol love, and the sight of a wedding 
[aside J dinner] is enough to set me on fire. Oh, 
it's a day of love and pleasure! How delightful 
the bustle of the morning, the coming of the 
bridegroom, the arrival of friends, the welcoming 
of the parson, the hugging of relations whom one 
never saw before, the kissing of the bride, the call 
to dinner, the dinner itself, the dessert, the wine, 
the tea, the ball ; but that's not all ! then the de- 
lights of the bridegroom, and the modesty of the 
bride; then comes the supper; no one can eat 
excepting me (aside). Then the nods and winks 
of the gentlemen, and the blushing of the ladies, 
and then; and then — (aside) but I must not go 



20 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

any further, or he^Il forget the dinner ("crosses to 
l) You see I understand my subject, and there 
are some few of the ideas I have attempted to 
throw into the verses 1 have written for the occa- 
sion, and here they are. f^ives him a paper) No, 
no — I beg your pardon those are some lines on 
a baptism; they'll do a few months hence (i^ivcs 
him another J There it is — it's set to a beautiful 
air, but that need not embarrass you, for I know 
every tune from Hail Columbia to Yankee Doo- 
dle; and I shall be by your side to encourage 
you, and give you the key note. 

Mea. And you have written them expressly 
for me ? I'm delighted ! though 1 renlly believe 
it's the first time that verses were written ex- 
pressly ior the marriage of an architect. 

Sponge, Listen, it begins thus : 

" On Richmond Hill there lives a lass 
More bright than May day morn, 
Whose charms all other maids surpass, 
^ ' A rose without a thorn. 

*' This lass so nent, with smiles so sweet, 

Has won mj' rigiit good will — 

I'd crowns resign to call hei mine, 

bweet lass of Richmond Hill." 

Mea. (r) Do you know, I'm afraid I've heard 
something bke that before ? 

Sponge, (l) Oh no, never — you're mistaken-— 
I wrote it expressly for the occasion. You see 
the locality struck me, an(i — 

Mea. Well, it's a very singular coincidence. 

[Opens his bookj and repeats the second verse. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER, 21 

" Ye zephyrs gay that fan the air, 
And wanton through the grove, 
Oh whisper to my charming fair, 
I die for her I love. 

*' This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet, 
Has won my right good will — 
I'd crowns resign to call her mine, 
Sweet lass of Richmond Hill." 

[^Measureton laughs. 

Sponge. Damn the Little Warbler! to think I 
should hit upon nothing but that. 

Mca. Ha, ha, ha ! I'm exceedingly obliged to 
you for the trouble you have taken on my ac- 
count, but you and your muse had better beat a 
retreat, unless you wish that the retreat should 
be beaten on your back. When you have any 
new occasional verses, (crosses to l) I'll listen to 
them; but pray don't pop in just as the dinner's 
put upon the table, '* for it is in those moments 
a man finds out his real friends;" ha, ha, ha! 
Well, one thing 1 will say for you — 

Sponge. And what's that ? 

Mca. That you look like a poet, at all events/ 
[Exit into house, l. s. e. laughing. 

Sponge, (feeling his stomach J And 1 unfortu- 
nately feel like one, too. I hope that fellow will 
die of a suneit, for his insolence. Now, fortune, 
thou art a jilt, indeed-— to think that fellow 
should have the very book in his pocket from 
which I co|)ied those verses this morning! Five 
o'clock by my watch — no, I mean by my appe- 
tite. Now they are seating themselves at table, 
and I not among them — I'll abandon the place. 
Oh, my genius ! Oh, my appetite ! Inspire me, 



22 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

both of ye. Choking off, l) Eh, who comes (his 
way ? [Conceals himself behind the arbor. 

Enter Frank, l. 

Frank, Landlord ! Landlord ! 

Fee. Centering from tavern, r. s. e.) What do 
you please to want ? 

Frank. Vve come to order dinner for my mas- 
ter and two of his friends. 

Sponge, (aside) More happy people going to 
dine ! 

Fee. What will they please to have ? 

Frank. Some of your best wine, soups, beef- 
steaks, a fine fowl, a salad, a lew tarts, and every 
thing for three persons. 

Sponge, (apart) Bless me, he says nothing 
about cheese ! 

Fee. (r) It shall be all right, (calling) A fowl 
on the spit directly — but you are quite certain 
that your master will come? 

Frank, (l) In order to make your mind easy 
about it, I am ordered to pay you in advance : 
how much will it come to ? 

Fee. Let me see — soup for three, beefsteaks 
for three, a fine fowl, a few tarts, a dessert, and 
three bottles of the best wine. Two pounds ten. 

Sponge, (aside) Lord, what a sum ! enough to 
last me in dinners for a month. 

Frank. Well, welK here it is; but you must 
not forget that, as master pays without drinking, 
the servant drinks without paying. It is 1 who 
advised master to come to your house. We have 
come to live hard by, and it's our custom to pay 
well. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 23 

Fee. May I be permitted to know who I have 
the honor of speakinor to ? 

Frank, (l c) Ah! 1 see we are not known 
yet; I am Mr. Francis, valet rie chambre to Mr. 
Dalton, the rich merchant. 

Fee. (r c) l>lr. Dalton! bless my soul — Mr. 
Dalton coming to dine at my house! It's an 
honor that I shall be proud of — drink whatever 
you like gratis; but, praj^ when may 1 expect 
Mr. Dalton to come ? 

Frajik. In ahout an hour, more or less. 

Fee. Every thing shall be ready, and, depend 
upon it, Mr. Francis, I shall not lorget your 
kindness. 

Frank. And depend upon it, if you do, I shall 
not fail to remind you of it. [Exeunt Franks l. 
and Feetlwell, into tavern, r. s. e. 

Spmge comes from his concealment. 

Spons^e. All the world will dine today except 
me. The occasion is propitious. Fortune in- 
vites me, and if I don't accept of it, it will be 
the first invitation I ever refused in mj' life. I 
must dine. The proprietor of the dinner will 
not arrive in less than an hour; yet, if I under- 
stand right, he may come sooner, On one side 
prudence, and on the other a consideration no 
lest powerful, (feeling his stomach) Every thing 
warns me to hasten the execution. Hollo, wait- 
er! Landlord! (reckoning his fing€;s) Mr. Dal- 
ton, a merchant, paid in advance — soups, fowl, 
beefsteaks, tarts, dessert, &c. Heavens ! what a 
fine memory fasting gives me. 



24 A KACE FOR A DINNER. 

Enter Feedwell, from houses r. s. e. 

Fee. (r) Who calls? 

Sponge, (l) What, sir, can't you guess ? How- 
ever, when we take the trouble to order in ad- 
vance, every thing is neglected. I see how it 
is; that careless fellow, Frank, has done nothing 
Tight, and so every thing's wrong. 

Fee, (aside) Oh, this is Mr. Dalton; now 
who would take him to be a rich merchant — but 
they told me he was very eccentric. 

Sponge, (aside) He bites — and so shall I pre- 
sently. 

Fee. Mr. Dalton, a thousand pardons — you 
shall not wait an instant, though your servant 
told me you would not arrive in less than an hour. 

Sponge. He was a fool. In the first place, I'm 
always in a hurry, and for that reason he has 
paid you in advance. 

Fee. Yes, he has, sir. 

Sponge. I hope he did not forget to tell you 
what I wished to have for dinner. 

Fee. (thinking) No, sir, no, sir; three bottler 
of the best wine, soup, a fowl, beefsteaks. 

Sponge. A few tarts, and a salad. He did not 
say any thing about cheese, did he ? 

Fee. Not a word. 

Sponge. No, damn him; he neier eats any 
himself: and take care that the wine is nice and 
Old — I like old wines. 

Fee. (aside) I wish he liked old women, and 
would take. my wife away. 

Sponge In my opiaiou, antiquity gives a va« 
lue to e^ery thing. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 25 

Fee (looking at his clothes) Then, in your opi- 
niorii what a valuable wa-drobeyou must poisSfss. 

Sponge. None of your threailbare jokes, fel- 
low — but Iv^t me have the dinner directly. 

t'ee. The dinner's mH reaily, and I'il serve it 
Ujr) the momfni your two friends arrive. [Qoin^ r. 

Sponge, (aside) Oh, the devil, I had forgotten 
my tv\o friends; 1 was making a pret'y hlunder 
— a dinner ordered for three. I don't doubt but 
I could eat it all myself, but that won't do — 
(aloud) Thiy can't be lono:. 

Fee. Then, in the meintime, I'll lay the cloth 
in the litt'e parlor — ii's the best room in the 
house. 

Sponge. The parlor! why the parlor? I'm 
tired of parlors. That arbor is the very {>lace 
In the o "en air one has a much better aj>j;etite 
(aside) And il's much easier to run away. 

Fee. Viu afraid you'll find ii very cold in the 
arbor. 

' Sponge. So that the dinner'^s hot, never mind; 
and, i say landlord, though the dinner's only 
ordered for three, let there be plentj', a sutficien- 
cv for five or six. (aside) I'll put some in my 
pocket for tomorrow. 1 shall reward you for 
your trouble. 

Fee. 1 have no doubt of it, your honor. 

[Exit Fcedwcll, into house, r. s. e. 

Sponge. 1 have. Thai Jellovv's like me; he's 
ready to swallow any thin^ — and 1 never wish 
to think of those two unhicky tViendg — 'ne al- 
ways forgets something 1 i»u»t have two, but 
C 



26 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

where to find them ? Why, the first that come 
— one can always find two friends to dine with 
us. Oh, if I were in such a situation ! How 
strange to th nk, at last, instead of wanting a 
dinner, I should want friends to eat one. Let 
me see, is there any one coming on the great 
road ? (looking out, r.) No, there's only a man 
at work in his shirt sleeves ; he won't do — not 
that Vm proud, but decorum, decorum forbids. 
Well, well, they must be found, and the first two 
decent people that I meet with I'll take by the 
collar; and, if they won't dine with me, damn it, 
I'll cram it down their throats. Hollo.! holloa, 
there ! [Exit, r. 

Enter Dalton and Lovell, l. 

Lov. (l c) In truth, Dalton, 1 admire your 
happy disposition — you are contented with every- 
thing. 

Dal. (r c) That is what I call true philosophy. 

Lov. But what, my dear Ualton, can have in- 
duced you to take this serious resolution of di- 
ning abroad, today, and leaving Mrs. Dalton to 
her own meditations? 

Dal. You shall know: sitting last night with 
my brother-in-law and a few friends the con- 
versation happened to turn on the delights of 
matrimony, on which it whs observed I had ne- 
ver diued out of my wife's company since we 
were marri^^d ; on which 1 jokingly said, then 
I'll dine away tomorrow. I was laughed at by 
my friends, and defied by my wife: in the end, 
a foolish wager was made, in which my wife and 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 27 

ill present joined, that T did not accomplish so 
Iredoubtable an affair, and, beioe determined to 
i win the WHger, I have escaped this morning with 
jthe full determination ot dining with you and my 
friend Thompson; he unfortunately cannot be 
af the party, but as I have appetite enough for 
two, we shall be all even. This, I presume, is 
jto be the point of attack — I sent forward Francis 
to reconnoitre the premises and prepare the eat- 
<ables. Lel^s in. [They retire up a little, l. 

r Enter Sponge, r. 

Sponge, (r) 1 can't find a single creature; it's 
becoming desperate. Eh, what do I see .^ These 
are my men; whether they've dined or not. they 
shan't escape me. [Bows to them, 

Lov (rather up stage, l) What can this fel- 
low want ? 

Dal. (rather up stage, c) A seedy coat, and 
makins: his bow at the door of an inn. Depend 
upon it, he wants to ask us for a dinner. What 
say you? We are only (wo, the dinner is pro- 
vided for three, and one can, on such an occa- 
sion, take pity, and give a meal to a poor fellow 
who is not fortunate enough to be able to pay for 
one himself. [^hy advance. 

Spo'ge. Gentlemen, not having the pleasure 
of your acquaintance, my proposal may appear 
somewhat odd, and, to say the truth, 1 find my- 
self in a very extraordinary situation. 

Dal. It's just as I said. 

Sponge. I have a peculiar habit of judging 
people at first sight, and, strange as it may ap- 



28 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 



pear, fVom the first moment I beheld you. the 
strongest symptoms of a growing aijpetite — I 
mean friendship — 

Dfd. I understand yoii — come to ask us to — 

Sponge. Do me the honor of dining with me. 

Lov, The devil ! 

Val This is an invitation I certainly was not 
prepared for. 

Sponge. How St anjre ! (aside) I'm always pre- 
pared lor an invitation. No doubf, you h)ok up- 
on me as an orijfinal ; but 1 love company, and, 
in lact, if I do not find two companions to sit at 
tabl*^ with me, in ail probabilitj 1 shall not dine 
^t all 

Dal. My dear sir, you do us too much honor; 
but really it's impossible. 

Lov, We have dined. 

Sponge. Happy fellows! Never mind, you 
can nine again — \ Ccin alwaj^s tiine twice. Ob, 
if ! were in such a situation ! 

Fee. (entermL^ from house, r. s. e.) Mr Dal- 
ton, your dinner's ready, and shall be served the 
moment you wish it. 

Sponge, (with importance) It's all right, my 
dear fellow. ^Exit Feedrvell into tavern, r. s. e. 

Dal. (rvith astonishment) How, sir ! Are you 
M**. Dalton. 

Sponge. 1 am sometimes called so. 

Lov What! Mr. Dalton, the merchant? 

Sponge. I do speculate a lit tie, now and then. 

Lov. (to Dal.) He's too much for us ; 1 see 
how it is. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 29 

Dal. (c) Be quiet, he's a character. 

/^^' (l) Yes, and I fear a very bad one. 

pal. (to L J No matter; we'll amuse ourselves 
"Vi'ith tiim 

Spofige. May I hope gentlemen, that, now you 
know something: of me, you will not refuse. The 
dinner is a slight one; soups, a fowl, a beefsteak, 
a few tarts, a dessert, and a bottle of good wine- 
Da/, (to Lov.) Why, zounds! It's our own 
dinner he's inviting us to. 

Sponge. Really, gentlemen, I can take no de- 
nial. Come, let us sit down without further ce- 
remony, and, over a glass of generous wine, we 
shall soon forget that we have not been longer 
acquainted. 

Dal. Well, since it must be so, we accpt your 
invitation. 

Sponge Gentlemen you honor me. Landlord, 
my two friends have arrived, and you may serve 
the dinner immediately. 

Fee. (without) < oming, directly, sir. 
\Two Waiters bring a tabic, three chairs, &c.y 
from the tavern^ r. and. ivilh Feedwell, prepare 

dinner in front of the arbor. During the time 

of setting the dinner, Dallon approaches Sponge. 

Dal. Mr. Dalton, I have accepted your invi- 
tation, but it is on one condition, which is, that 
tomorrow, Tuesday, you honor me with your 
company to dinner, at the Manor House on the 
hill. 

Sponge. My dear sir, with the greatest pleasure. 

Lov. (crosses toSponse) And 1 hope, Mr. Dal- 
C* 



■30 A RACE FOR A DINNER* 

ton, that on the day after you will likewise oblige 
Die. 

Sponge, (putting kis hand on hi<i stomach) IMy 
der.r sir, 1 have not the power of refusing you. 
(aside) Thank heaven, I bave dinners provuUd 
for two days to come. I needn't put any in my 
pock^-t, (Dalton, r. and Lo'ell, c seoX themselves 
at the table ; as :!iponge is s^oifig towards it, some 
Lasses of the v'Jlage enter, l. u. e., with nosegays 
— the^jjorin a cncle^ andd.mce round him : he in 
vain endeavors to escape from them.) What the 
dem-e does all this mean ? 

Fee. (l) It's 0013 Ih*^ lasses of the viiJage, 
hearing of their landlonl's arrival, have come to 
paj' their respects to him. 

Sponge. It's all very well, but the dinner is 
cooling. 

Bai. (r. of table) Thank heaven, he's receiv- 
ing tlieir conijiiiraents instead of me. 

Sponge. Oh, the devil ! they're attacking the 
souj) without mercy — enough ! enough ! (^village 
lasses present him with nosegays) It's all very 
pretty, hut one can't dine upon nostgi-ys. (^look- 
ing at the fable) Now they're attacking the beef- 
steak. Oh, the gluttons! (to the lasses) Pray, 
lei-s ceremony — another time, {senng Dalton 
drink) After dinner, and I'll give you something 
to driok— that is, if they le^ve any Here, 
!ana!r,'«} t waiter ! take away these infernal 
plagues. [Goes over to r. with lasses. 

Fee. Neighbors, retire awhile — Mr. Dalton's 
busy now. 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 31 

Dor. (^coming from his house, r. in a htirry) In 
<lie narnp ot gocdness, vvba* does all this nnan? 

Fee. VV'by. it's Mr Dalton, the rich merch^znt, 
who is goins to do me the honor of dining at my 
house. The young folks of the village are pay- 
ini: fheir ress^ects to him. 
[The lasses give their nosegays separately to 

Sponge, and, passmg him. cross to l. r. e. 

Dor. Can it he possible ? Why, that's the ve- 
ry man who acted so strangely with my son-in- 
law ; but they said he was very eccentric — a 
pretty business Fve made of it. I must a[>oIo- 
gise. [Sponge hurries off the peasants, l. u e. 
and attempts to seat himself], l. at the table, but 
Doric slop-^ him and forces him back.] Mr. Dal- 
ton ! Mr. Dalton ! 

Sponge. Another interruption. 

Dor. One word. 

Sponge. One mouthful ! I have no time. 

Dor, You must excuse me, but I cannot per- 
mit you to leave me, until you suffer me to apo- 
logise for my rudeness this morning. 

Sponge. My dear sir, apologise another time. 
[Eyitcr Measureton from house, l. s. e. rvith a, 

napkin and spoon in his hand. 

Mea. Why, father-in law, how strangely you 
leave us. 

Dor. [Making signs rvith his hand for him to 
retire^ Directly, [to Sponge, whom he still holds] 
No, no — you must not escape, an(i, after all, you 
fibsolutely must take a family dinner with us. 

Sponge, Wheu once a man don't want a din» 



32 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

ner» how provokiogly pressing: people are. My 
dear sir, 1 wonli! dine with you with the greatest 
phasnre, but [lookmg at the lahle] at this mo- 
ment I have invited two friends, two particular 
friends, whom 1 could not leave at this moment 
for 'he world ! See, see, they are beckoning; to 
me. [looking at the table] Ah, there goes the last 
of the beefsteak ! 

Hor. [still holding him] Tomorrow, Mr. Dal- 
ton — 

Sponge. Tomorrow I'm engaged. 

Dor. Then the day after. 

Sponge. I'm engaged. 

Dor. May I hope on Thursday, then ? 

Sponge. On Thursday I'm your? — I shall at- 
tend, and with a good appetite, [aside] But ia 
this moment of dreadful suspense — 

Dor. It's agreed, then — I shall expect you. 
[Exit Doric, into his house, l. s. e. ; Measureton^ 

who has beeen lookins; on, runs to Sponge^ and 

seizes him by the button hole. 

Mea. My dear sir, pardon the freedom I made 
use of this morning, but, upon (ny soul, I did not 
know you. 

Sponge. My dear sir, don't mention it, but 
have the kindness to leave me. There goes the 
merry thought. 

Mea. No, no; my father-in law had the start 
of me in engaging you for Thursday, but I hope 
that on Friday — 

Sponge. On Friday be it, and let that settle it. 
Ah, the fowl's all gone ! [Takes his hat off, and 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 33 

putting it on Mcasuretonh head, presses it over his 
eyes. He goes into house^ l. s. e. Sponiiey in a 
paroxysm, Uars himself away, catches the napkin 
out of Mcasuretonh hand tucks it under his chin, 
and runs to the table.'] Another minute, and the 
aff ;ir would have been serious indeed, [looking 
over the table] It appears that you have not been 
idle, gentlemen. Fortunately, I am accusto- 
med to eat quick, ami shall soon overtake you. 

Dal. Clean plaie, waiter t waiter, a clean 
plate ! 

Sponge. Oh, never mind me, a dirty one will 
do. I like plenty of gravy [Sehes Dalton^s plate. 
Enter Gammon, l. 

Gam. Pray, is there one Mr. Dalton any where 
here ? [Dalton, it. points to Sponge l ] I beg your 
pardon, [to Sponge] hut I wish to speak a word 
with you, if you please, on an affair of the great- 
est imf»ortance. 

Sponge. My dear ft How, another time, ano-^ 
Iher time : at the [present moment it's impossible. 
[to Dalton, who is again helping himself.] Sir, sir, 
you'll die of an indigestion, [asidt] He takes care 
that I !^han't, though, [to Gammon, who is grow- 
ing impatient] Now, now, don't be so trouble- 
some — don't you see the dinner? 

Gam. Yes, and the business I've come about 
is concernins: the dinner. 

Sponge. What can your business have to do 
with my dinner? 

Gam. You'll know that soon enough. 

Sponge. [calli7ig] Waiter, some more beef- 



34 A RACE FOR A DINNER. 

steak ! [Gatnm&n pulls Sponge hy the sleeve] Why, 
in the name of famine, have you such an objec- 
tion to my putting a bit of any thing in my 
mouth ? 

Gam. Explanation is unnecessary. I have 
orders to take your person 1 shall be sorry to 
employ force, bnt, if necessary, I have assist- 
ance at hand. 

Sponge. This all comes of taking people's names 
we know nothing of. [aside] I thought it im{ios- 
sible to have hit upon a more dangerous one 
than my own. 

Gam. Come, come, I must take you to prison. 

Sponge Only wait till I get a bit of dinner, 
and you may take me any where. [Gafnmon is 
pulling him away] This will never do — I think 
it will be more prudent to declare the truth — a 
word in your ear. [}Vhispers in G^s ear. 

Gam. What! then, after all, you are not Mr. 
Dalton. 

Sponge. No, my name is Sponge, at your ser- 
vice — happy to dine with you any day after Fri- 
day. I am not the rich man, upon my honor; 
but you should have known that by my appetite. 

Gam. Sir, I have to ask you a thousand par- 
dons — it's true I was to arrest Mr Dalton, but, 
bless your soul, it was all a sham; I'm no officer 
— I was only employed to force him to dine at 
the manor house, with his wife and friends. 

Sponge. Was it only that, after all ? Oh, that 
I could only persuade him that I was his priso- 
ner again ! 



LL-.OV 



A RACE FOR A DINNER. 35 

Gam. You see they had laid a wager — 

DaL [Jumping up] Which they have lost, for 
my dinner's ended, [allstart.'} Yes, yes, it was 
very ingenious, but you have arrived a little too 
late. My name's Dalton, and my dinner's ended. 

Sponge. Your name Dalton! Then who the 
deuce ami? I'm nobody. 

Dal. However, we will repair home [crosses 
to L.] for the dessert, and regale our friends with 
the adventures of the morning. Waiter, tooth- 
picks ! As for you, my dear Amphytrion, we 
heartily thank you for your kind invitation, and 
we hope you will not forget ouis. [Exeunt l. 

Sponge. You may depend upon me — I shall 
get no dinner till then, that's clear. [As Sponge 
is musing, the waiter comes and offers him a tooth- 
pick — the other waiter clears the tablCy &c.'\ What 
the deuce is (his ? 

Wait. A toothpick. 

Sponge. A toothpick ! [kicks the waiter off^ r.] 
This the height of derision. Then it appears 
that every body has dined but me. ^y the 
event, however, I have made a good week of it ; 
let me see, theie are dinners for [counting his 
fingers] Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and 
Friday, but nothing as yet, decisive for today. 
[looks towards the table] They have cleared away 
the things, [Jeeling his pockets] &n6 I have not 
the means of enticing them to a second appear- 
ance. But, if there be among all my friends 
present, any one who dines late, very late, and 
who has the least iuteotion of inviting me home 



36 A RACE ^'OR A DINNER. 

with him, I beg he will not put himself out 
the way on my account — I am [jerlectly at an 
one's service; but, if I should not be happj 
enough to meet with an invitation tor today, . 
hope 1 shall be more fortunate when I next star 
*• A Race for a Dinner." 



D is^osition of the Characters at the fall of the 
Curtain, 

B.] C. [l. 

gPONGE. 



THE END. 



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